


Take A Picture, It'll Last Longer

by cheshirecat101



Series: Tumblr Prompts [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Human, Collars, Feminization, High Heels, Lace Panties, Lingerie, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Model Stiles, Modeling, Photographer Derek, Stiles Stilinski in Panties, Stockings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 21:24:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4802717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirecat101/pseuds/cheshirecat101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is a photographer who's had a crush on Stiles for quite a while now. Erica's new lingerie campaign seems designed specifically to punish him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take A Picture, It'll Last Longer

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh, I had a lot of fun with this, honestly. It was a bit of an odd prompt for me but it's fun to pretend to dress up boys in lingerie, I found. I might have to do more in this universe at some point. :) Anyway, hope you enjoy! 
> 
> I do fic commissions, message me at the email on my profile if you're interested!

“Stiles, are you–” Derek stopped, voice dying in his throat as he saw the model coming towards him, taking off his robe as he went. Jesus Christ. He understood that, considering this was Erica’s campaign, she got to choose what and how Stiles wore her fashions, but god damn did she have to dress him up like this?

Honestly, she should have been the one to model her own creations, but she’d gotten bored of the fetishization and constant scrutiny of her body and decided hey, why not run a small social experiment? See what would happen if she put a male model in the campaign and didn’t change any other details. Exact same lingerie and makeup line, completely differently gendered model. What she probably hadn’t expected was for sales of the magazines to skyrocket, and for the ad campaign to become the discussion topic of every major fashion outlet. 

Suddenly what had before been seen as maybe avant-garde at best was now seen as edgy and bold, a cutting edge campaign that was quickly being imitated across the board by designers who wanted to get away from a clean-cut image and into something darker and a bit trendier. Well. Now it was trendy because Erica had set the trend, though Derek was pretty sure that that was mostly due to the fact that she had–thankfully–failed to convince Boyd to do it, and of course Isaac was a co-designer so he wasn’t a good candidate, meaning that she’d had to turn elsewhere for her model. And that was when she’d found Stiles.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Stiles said, and those currently glossy, rosebud lips curved up into a smile as he passed Derek, clapping him on the shoulder. “Let’s rock this bitch!” He swaggered over to the backdrop, stepping in front of the cameras and immediately turning to Derek with a smirk, his usual signal that he was ready for the shoot to start. Which was a hell of a way to indicate it, but it was better than some tactics he’d taken in the past to get Derek’s attention, including grabbing  his own junk and staring down the camera while saying, “This is what Erica wants, right?”

Peter had snapped the photo on his smartphone–it’d been the one and only time that he was allowed here during one of Stiles’s shoots, and that had been at the very beginning while he was still staying at Derek’s place and Derek hadn’t trusted him enough to be in the apartment by himself, despite the fact that Peter was older than him and related to him–and it’d gone viral within hours, much to Erica’s displeasure. It wasn’t the image that she wanted to project with the line–”It’s supposed to be edgy but  _classy,_  Derek!”–but Isaac was delighted with the free publicity, and he and Boyd managed to calm her down after she’d done her fair share of chewing Derek out for it. 

After that, he’d made sure that they went over behavior guidelines with Stiles, who still mostly did what he pleased, but at least seemed to tone it down a bit now. As much as he could tone it down, considering the subject matter of their shoots and what, exactly, he was wearing for each one. Today, though, Erica had really outdone herself with her selection for him.

Nude Cuban heel stockings with a black heel, line up the back, and lace band around the tops that held snugly to Stiles’s pale thighs, held in place there by the black lace garter belt he was wearing, settling at his natural waist and accentuating the bulge that Derek’s eyes kept straying to that was currently protected from view by a pair of red panties, the lace in a floral, rose pattern. All of the designs were sexy and tasteful, never garish, but they did very little to hide Stiles’s…natural gifts, and it was clearly hard for some of the people on set to focus around him. They’d eventually made the crew up of mostly lesbians and asexuals, and that seemed to stop the problem of sneaky pictures being taken for “personal” use. Derek seemed to be the exception here, but considering that most people thought he was heterosexual–Stiles included, though Erica and Isaac and Boyd knew better–it was an easy mistake to make.

It didn’t help that they didn’t just dress Stiles up; they  _made_ him up. In addition to the lingerie line, there was the makeup collection, and for some reason when Erica had decided to defy gender roles, she’d decided to go all the way with it. Hence the lipgloss that was currently and usually adorning Stiles’s lips, making them sticky and gooey and slick, parted slightly as he made just the right amount of sex faces at the camera. It wasn’t fair, honestly. That combined with the mascara making his dark lashes even longer as they surrounded Bambi brown eyes made all of his best physical features stand out, and Derek swallowed thickly, swallowing down his words as he picked up his camera, stepping into the shooting area to face Stiles.

He couldn’t help the shameless rake of his eyes over Stiles’s figure as Stiles talked to Isaac about something trivial, the shoes, maybe. High, high heels that Derek was amazed Stiles could even walk in, slick and sleek and black, but with red backings to match the panties. God was testing his patience here, honestly. That or Erica, and considering Erica was nearly a divine figure who was just as prepared to smite and breathe fire as any good old-fashioned deity, Derek’s money was on the latter. She had to know what seeing Stiles in these outfits did to Derek, she knew about his eternal crush on Stiles.

After all, he’d known Stiles before Erica had chosen him for this particular line. Stiles had bounced around as a model from line to line that Derek worked on, getting his start as a teenager with the equally young Lydia Martin’s line, co-produced with Allison Argent, who’d used Stiles out of cost necessity since he was the best friend of Allison’s then boyfriend, Scott, and therefore free. From there, that tiny little campaign that had blown up into a worldwide sensation when it was highlighted in an article about indie companies by Malia Tate for Desert Wolf magazine, regarded as an “indie newcomer” by other fashion magazine giants, but they’d all immediately seized on the article when it came out, scrambling over themselves to get in touch with Lydia and Allison themselves. As the centerpiece of the glossy magazine spreads, stretched out on threadbare couches and wearing handmade clothing that’d been designed to fit his body perfectly, Stiles had then captured the attention of Deucalion of Alpha Modeling Agency, and from there it’d been history.

Stiles had started showing up in more well-known brands, and Derek had been brought in to photograph him first on a dual shoot with Jackson Whittemore, who Derek hadn’t been enthused to work with again, but it had been completely worth it. Because it meant that he got to meet Stiles.

Stiles was barely an adult when they met, still possessing a lanky sort of youth to him, unlike Jackson, who had those sharp-cut cheekbones and an attitude to match. Stiles was warm and slightly nervous when Derek first met him, shaking his hand and immediately cracking a joke about hoping he and Jackson didn’t have to kiss for this because he’d probably get cut on one of his cheekbones instead. Derek hadn’t cracked a smile, preferring to maintain a professional persona, and Stiles had immediately started rubbing at the back of his neck until Derek told him that no, he’d probably get cut by that sharp tongue first. Then he’d relaxed, realizing that Derek wasn’t completely stoic and professional, and smiled such a dazzingly relieved smile that Derek had nearly been bowled over by it.

After that, they had a few more shoots together, Stiles making his way up in the world and Derek doing the same, until they met again after Erica decided to revamp the entire campaign, deciding that using herself as the model was boring, predictable, and above all, wasn’t helping sales. And then Stiles came in, and changed everything.

And the crush? Well, Derek had had a crush for a while, but it was small, stupid. Just him wanting something, someone that he couldn’t have, someone who was steadily becoming more and more unattainable as he climbed the ranks and got more and more recognized by the public. Stiles had made big waves, and not just in the fashion community. Everyone, it seemed, was talking about the ads with boys in lingerie, and even though they’d since expanded and included other men in the ads, Stiles was still the first, the original, and the face of the campaign. 

So while Derek was well-known around the industry for his work and had no problem getting hired, he was nowhere near the same level of fame as Stiles, and Stiles had been spending more time at places with champagne and caviar and crowds of adoring fans, most of whom were willing to drop a few thousand on him at the drop of a hat or a blink of those long lashes over amber eyes. So no, Derek didn’t really have a chance here, as much as he may have wanted one. It was alright. He hadn’t had any hope from the beginning anyway. And now he was too constricted by the fear of rejection to even try. Speaking of constricted…

“Let’s try a few with the collar on,” he said after he’d snapped some shots of Stiles in various positions in his current outfit, the whole time making sure he focused on thoughts of lighting and focus and styling, rather than on thoughts of how damn enticing Stiles looked in that clothing. How attractive he was when laid out just so, on the ground with his smoky eyes on the camera, one leg hiked up near his hip, the other stretched out along the ground, his pale chest glittering lightly with whatever it was they put on him. Fuck, something divine was definitely testing him.

Isaac helped put a black collar with a gold buckle on Stiles, the clasp slipping shut over the pale expanse of his throat, freckled throughout with small birthmarks. Beauty marks, they were sometimes called, and they could certainly be called that now. Not fair. This whole thing wasn’t fair. How could he be expected to work in conditions like this, where he could barely even look at Stiles without being mildly blinded? How could he get the perfect shot when all he was thinking about was those beautiful pink lips, red and swollen and wrapped around–

Fuck. He finished the shot series he was taken, all taken in quick succession while Stiles switched poses, then cleared his throat, drawing back from the camera into the semi-darkness of the rest of the room. “Alright, everyone take five,” he said, and Stiles instantly slumped in his posture, stepping out of the high heels to rest his feet for a minute. Unfortunately, that meant that he was silent when he approached Derek, who nearly jumped when he heard a warm voice right by his ear saying, “You usually take more pictures before breaks.”

It was an honest struggle not to have his entire body tense upon hearing that voice so close by him, and he resisted the urge to turn around and look at Stiles. That combined with close proximity was probably a bad idea. “And usually you put more effort into the shoot,” he said casually back, pretending to be playing with his camera, when really he was just uselessly adjusting and then readjusting things. 

He could almost hear Stiles deflate, though at the least he could hear the air leave his lungs as he sighed. “Yeah, well, I’m tired today. Happens when your agent keeps you up all night looking through your pictures to pick new ones for your portfolio.”

“You’re updating your portfolio?” Derek asked, finally turning to look at Stiles with some confusion in his gaze. “Are you looking for another job? I thought you were signed on with Erica and company for the duration of their campaign.”

“I am, but since Erica’s adding other models in, Deucalion wants me to be prepared in case she drops me,” Stiles said, and Derek almost missed the whole of it because Stiles’s lips were still glistening with gloss, making them look shiny and wet, and Jesus that was unfair. 

He managed to gather himself enough to answer, “Erica isn’t in any danger of dropping you for any reason. Just because she’s adding other models into the ads doesn’t mean she’s getting rid of you. Everyone knows you. Everyone wants you.”

Those final words had slipped out without his input, and Derek quickly turned away from Stiles again, not wanting to see his reaction to that. But to his surprise, Stiles laughed, and Derek risked a glance at him again. “Shit, nobody wants me,” Stiles said, cracking a grin at Derek. “They want to be me, that’s totally different. Yeah, you get the creepy fetishists who want me, but that’s different, or the people who want me for my success or money or fame, whatever, but it’s not the same. That’s not what I want.”

“And what do you want?” Derek asked, unable to stop himself from asking because Stiles was so close right now and he might have been imagining things, but he was pretty sure Stiles hadn’t been this close a minute ago. 

Stiles smiled, those glossed lips curving up into an enticing expression that was matched by the somewhat sultry look in his eyes. “What do you think, Derek?” he asked, and no, Derek was definitely not imagining the fact that Stiles had dropped his voice into a low, smoky tone. 

“I–don’t know, Stiles,” Derek answered, watching Stiles carefully, and oh yeah, he was definitely moving closer this time. 

“Then you’ll just have to wait and see,” Stiles breathed, and winked before he pulled back abruptly, breaking the spell between them and returning to a normal tone. “Time to come back from break, don’t you think?”


End file.
